The Nephilim, The Familiar & The Hunters
by revolutionfan20
Summary: Loosely inspired by the episode "Man's Best Friend With Benefits" from season 8 but takes place around season four. (I'm sorry i'm really bad at summaries)


**Chapter 1: Alison Elizabeth Todd**

"Allie, don't forget to call me as soon as the movie is over"

"I know" I roll my eyes. Thankfully she can't see it. But I forget she has mom sense.

"Don't roll your eyes" she snaps at me. "You may be eighteen but you still live in my house"

"Yes mom" I grit my teeth as I stuff my money into the pocket of my jean shorts.

Just two more weeks.

Just two more weeks till graduation then summer. Then College and I'm gone for good.

"You're going out like that?" she gawks at the muscle tank cut so low you could see my bra from both sides. And my shorts rolled up so far you could see the pocket lining. I don't usually wear makeup, but I do when I go out with friends. So the sight of black liner across my eye lids had my mother cringing with outraged disgust.

"Take it off"

"I may live in your house" I clench my teeth, "But this is my body. You don't own it"

"That's it" she points a finger at me and waves it towards the stairs. "Consider yourself grounded"

"You can't make me stay here" I actually laugh. I probably shouldn't have laughed but before she had the chance to yell I stormed out the front door. She didn't come after me so I jumped into my dark green jeep and drove fast till I could no longer see my house in the rearview mirror. I decided to ditch my friends who technically weren't even my friends. Just the kids I hung around and smoked with on the occasions I couldn't stand being home alone. Or being home with my parents.

I drove around for a good hour before I needed to get gas. I pull into the only gas station in my small town and start filling up. Leaning back against the door of my car I wait, tapping my foot impatiently.

The roar of an engine startles me as a black 67' Impala pulls in just on the other side of the service station I'm using to fill up my car. I can't help but goggle at the sight of it's pristine condition and almost become tempted to ask the owner if I can take a look as he gets out of the car. He's young, a lot younger than I expected. Maybe in his mid twenties.

And he's hot as hell.

His hair is a light brown and short. His eyes are a stunning light green that stand out even in this god awful fluorescent lighting at ten o'clock at night. His jaw line looks like it could break rock and he wears this old brown leather jacket over a simple dark blue shirt and jeans. He catches me staring but instead of giving me a weird look he smiles and I can't help but speak up.

"Nice car" I smile back and pull the gas nozzle out from my piece of junk jeep, feeling slightly jealous, and stick it back in its place on the self service station.

"Thanks" he almost seems amused by my comment.

"67' right? Impala?"

"You know your cars" he smiles even wider.

"I'm a sucker for classics" I move between the middle partition of his side and mine. After sticking the nozzle into the gas tank, he comes over and stands in front of me.

"You live around here?" he asks.

"Yeah, that way" I nod east of us. "I'm guessing you're new. I would have remembered seeing a car like this"

"Just...passing through" he answers almost hesitantly.

"So...you wanna turn that just passing through into one night?" I raise my eye brows.

He smirks as his eyes drift over me. "If only I had the time, sweet heart" he says, "besides my brother"

Only now do I glance in the passenger seat to see a guy around the same age with much shaggier and darker brown hair.

"It's a shame" I purse my lips, "I would have loved a spin in your car"

He carefully licks his lips as his eyes drift over me again. "God," he sighs, "I really, really wish I could but we have a job to get to"

"Family business, I guess?"

"Something like that" he nods.

"You got a pen?" I ask and he bolts to the passenger side window, knocking rather frantically.

"Sammy hand me a damn pen!"

"Dean-"

"Just do it!"

He comes back and hands it to me. I take hold of his wrist and scribble my cell number on his arm.

"Give me a call, if you're ever here to stay"

"Oh, I definitely will" he smirks at me. "I'm Dean, by the way"

I shake Dean's hand, letting it linger in his a second longer even after we're done shaking.

"Alison...I prefer Allie though"

"Well, Allie" he nods. "I'll be sure to come back when our job is done"

"I'm holding you to that" I whisper. "It looks sturdy enough for a joyride in the backseat"

I can practically see the wheels turning his mind as he smirks back at me and his eyes drift down over my body one last time. I don't scold him for it.

I never scold any guy for it.

"Oh, hell yes" he smirks as I let go of his hand. I turn away without looking back and get in my car.

I feel my heart drop as I turn down the road towards my house. I can't expect a great welcome home but I have to. But that doesn't stop me from taking the long way home.

Just a few weeks. Then Senior Beach week in Atlantic Beach. Then summer break.

Then college in the fall.

I'll make it. I have to.

Suddenly I hear the start to U2's "Vertigo" and it takes me a few seconds to register that it's my phone. I pull it from my pocket and glance at the caller ID.

It's my mom. I laugh, shaking my head I press ignore and toss my phone onto the seat beside me. But less than a minute later it starts to ring again and it won't stop. I let it go to voicemail, but it just keeps ringing. And every time I glance over at it I see the word 'Mom' and a picture of a red man with horns and a pitch fork as the ID picture.

"Yeah mom i'm fine" I mutter. "I'm coming home"

It keeps ringing. I didn't know listening to one of my favorite songs over and over again could actually nauseate me but it kept playing even as I was finally pulling into my driveway. And all I wanted to do was run for bedroom and lock myself away. But the second I reached the door to my house the ringing stopped mid call.

She must have seen me pull up and is surely waiting for me on the other side of that door with her arms crossed and a disappointed scowl.

I open the door, but all the lights are off.

Weird.

Their cars were in the driveway, and it's barely eleven. Dad usually stays up to watch David Letterman and my mom reads beside him. It was their thing. After long days at work they would sit with a cup of decaf tea and relax when they were finished giving me grief about school and everything I do wrong with my life. Especially my tattoos and several ear piercings which apparently make me look like a hellion. But they were my identity, something I always tried to explain to her but she never understood me.

I was practically a stranger to my parents.

I walked towards the living room, thinking that they were in there anyway. But the lights were off in there too. Expect the tv...that was on. Some commercial for a new tv show about sexy doctors, that focused more on their relationship problems than any actual interesting medical marvels, was playing. I didn't pay much attention as I turned on the lights and walked through the house to find my parents.

"Mom? Dad?" I called out but no one answered.

Double Weird.

I went into the kitchen and grabbed a diet coke from the fridge. Sitting down on one of the stools at our breakfast counter, I pulled out my iPhone and swept the bar of the lock screen to turn it on. I was checking Facebook and twitter when suddenly I heard a nose up stairs. It was a strange thud, like someone had dropped a very heavy book.

"Mom!? Dad!?" I called out again. But nothing.

I put down my phone and the diet coke and headed up the stairs cautiously. I could feel my heart racing, the sweat building on my forehead and in my palms.

What had that noise been? Where were my parents?

When I got to the top of the stairs I peeked around the corner to see the door to my parents room was open a few inches and the light was on.

I went to the closet straight across from me and pulled out my old softball bat.

"Mom? Dad?" I called out more softly then started walking down the hall. The bat raised like I was ready to swing it hard for a home run, my hands instinctively gripping it like I was playing the game. I use to play, but that was a long time ago. So long ago that our family was actually happy and semi normal then.

I was semi normal then.

When I got just a foot away from their room I hesitated for a moment before pushing the door wider. Then I saw it.

The floor, thick with dark blood, almost in drops leading farther into the room. I stumbled back against the wall, clamping a hand to my mouth to silence my sudden scream.

I couldn't breathe. I ran away from the room without looking in. There had been so much blood...there was no way.

I ran down the stairs, I had to make it to the kitchen where I left my phone. When I turned the corner at the bottom of the stairs he was there. A dark figure, the light of the kitchen at his back so he looked like nothing more than a shadow. But I knew it was a man. He was too large, too burly and too short of hair to be a women.

I froze. I didn't know what to do. The door was right behind me...I could run to the neighbors but this man would surely catch me. Probably kill me before anyone could call 911 for help. Even if I screamed it wouldn't do much good. I clutched the bat tighter in my hands. I didn't see a weapon but that didn't mean he didn't have one.

"Get out!" I tried to scream forcefully but it came out more like a strained croak. I started to back up towards the door but every step I took he took several with me with his long legs striding far. He came closer, the light from the living room now falling over the both of us.

He was tall, his skin sickly pale and his hair dark. His eyes were a strange golden shade but what scared me most was his mouth.

A thin evil smirk, blood all around it and his teeth...as he opened his mouth wider in a large sinister smile, I caught sight of jagged teeth like fangs. But that couldn't be right?

I couldn't hold it, I screamed. Accidentally dropping the bat from shock as I ran out the door. I could hear his low animal like growl right behind me. I tripped over the stupid hose on the lawn. I try to scramble to my feet but suddenly hands are grabbing my ankles and pulling me back towards the house. I try to scream again but it only comes out as exasperated gurgles and sobs of pain that were caught in my throat. The fang man flips me over on my back then grabs me by my wrist and pulls me up, dragging me back into the house. I try to fight him off but he's so exceedingly strong my wrist feels like it's breaking under his grip. It's almost inhuman, his strength. And that may scare me just as much as the blood around his mouth and dripping from the sharpened teeth. He slams the door and pulls me into the living room, throwing me onto the couch. I sit frozen as I watch him.

He doesn't attack but paces back and forth in front of me, running his hands through his hair.

"Please" I sob, "Please let me go. I won't tell...I won't say anything"

He doesn't answer but stops mid pacing and stares blankly at me. His golden eyes glowering back at me. He stares at me like... like i'm dinner.

"What are you" I find myself asking and I don't know why. I don't know why i'm even talking but I can't help myself as my eyes are frozen on his golden eyes, his sharp fangs and his pale skin. Everything about this man is just...wrong. And it's not just the crazy, murderous act that he's committed of my parents. It's the way he looks, it's the way he smells...wreaks of death and blood. Like the smell is not just because my parents blood covers his hands and mouth. It's more like it's his natural musk. The way his fangs suddenly retract back into his gums the longer he stays frozen and staring back at me. It's the way his golden eyes suddenly fade to a more pale color, like they're attached to his actions.

I want to scream.

I want to run.

But I can't bring myself to move let alone form any more words when he doesn't answer me. But just as he's about to move toward me something crashes through the window. All I see is a blurred ball of fur as it tackles the man to the ground. I hear a scream erupt from the mans throat. Even his shrill scream sounds impossibly abnormal, almost animal. I get on my feet and run, without looking back at the man or the thing that tackled him. All I know is I need to get to the kitchen and grab my phone. I snatch it off the counter and run down the hall towards the front door. But before I can reach the handle i'm being shoved back and the man with the fangs is standing before me. I hit my head against the banister as I fall. When I glance up at him from the floor, I can see teeth and claw marks all over his body. Gashes so deep it should be impossible that he's still standing and unaffected as a strange dark, almost black blood oozes out of his broken skin. I can feel my own blood, running down the side of my face from where my forehead hit the banister. But I don't wipe it away and I don't take my eyes off the man as he...sniffs the air?

He takes a deep inhale, his eyes closing, his nostrils flaring as if he's inhaling the smell of a turkey roasting in the oven on Thanksgiving. Like he smells something that could make a starving person's mouth water. Then he looks down at me.

He looks down at me like i'm that turkey dinner that he's been waiting all way to dig his teeth into. His extremely sharp, fang like teeth that come back out as he opens his mouth and hisses at me.

I can hear whimpering, growling coming from the living room. It sounds like a dog and I realize it must have been the thing that had crashed through the window.

I can't even begin to think of where the dog had come from or why it had saved me as the man, thing lunges at me. But before he can dig his teeth into my throat, which is clear to me now that's exactly what he was staring at as he lunged, the front door flies open and all I see is a flash of silver as it chops off the head of the fanged man.

I watch it roll and hit the wall, it's fangs still sticking out in its gawking mouth. I crawl backwards frantically, away from the blood that's squirting out of it's cleaved neck and stare wide eyed in horror at it all.

"Are you okay?" a deep voice, one that to my surprise I recognize pulls me back. I look up, the man who swung the strangely jagged edged sword and find that I know him.

"D-Dean?" I stutter, remembering him from half an hour ago from the gas station. The guy with the kick ass 67' Chevy Impala.

"Are you okay?" he asks again. "It didn't bite you did it?"

"Bite me?" I repeat, staring at him terrified and crying as the blood continues to ooze out the man's neck. "I...no it didn't bite me"

He steps so casually over the beheaded body and reaches his hand down to me. "Don't worry he may bite, but I don't" he smirks.

How can he be making jokes right now?

I take his hand anyway and he pulls me onto my feet. I stare into his green eyes. I'm shaking, i'm sure he can tell as his hand is still firmly clasped around mine.

"Dean!" someone calls out and suddenly another guy is running through the wide open door of my front house. I recognize him too, the shaggy haired kid he said was his brother.

Sammy.

"All good here" Dean looks back at him. "Got the blood sucker just before he was about to bite"

"Cutting it a little close this time don't you think" Sammy laughs.

He's laughing?

Blood sucker?

"The dog" I suddenly blurt out but it's all I can say.

"What dog?" Dean looks back at me. I rip my hand from his and step over the blood sucker, and run into the living room. I know Dean and Sammy are right behind me but I don't look back as I find the dog. He looks like some kind of German Shepard mix. And he's huge for a dog that size anyway. Maybe he's a wolf, that would be the least scary or weird thing to happen to me. A wolf crashing through the window.

Maybe it's a werewolf, I slightly laugh to myself. But then I realize with the fanged monster a werewolf would make sense.

Stop, this isn't fucking Twilight.

His neck is bleeding and I realize the man, what Dean and Sammy referred to as the blood sucker, had slashed his neck with the broken glass. I run to the dog, kneeling beside him. There's glass, sticking out of him in other places from where he crashed through the window. But compared to the neck injury those wounds are merely mosquito bites. I do my best to pull the glass out. I glance back at Dean and Sammy who are watching me and the dog curiously.

"Help me!" I yell at them. Dean rushes over and helps me lift the dog.

"The kitchen table" I say frantically and we carry him over. Sammy runs ahead of him and shoves the candles, table cloth and vase of roses off and crashing to the floor. I can't help but think how angry my mom will be when she sees the mess...then I remember she won't ever scold me for anything again. I think I might start to burst into sobs of grief. But my eyes are dry now and no urge to break down into tears comes.

Me and Dean set the dog down and I shove my hands over the neck wound to stop the bleeding.

"There are towels in the kitchen drawer just to the right of the sink!" I yell at them. "And we need hot water to clean out the wound!"

They don't say anything but listen to me, grabbing the towels and starting a pot of boiling water. Then Sammy runs out side, only to come back with a bag. He pulls out a small box.

"What is that?" I ask.

"He needs stitches" he replies softly. I stare at him. All I saw before was that shaggy brown hair. I look at him now, studying him intently. His eyes are a dark brown. He looks younger than Dean. Maybe 22. But he's tall. Oddly tall and the way he looks back at me, his eyes sad, almost eerily sympathetic and his lips thinned into a frown. His clothes are simple, just like Deans. A plaid flannel and jeans, a navy blue jacket and work boots I notice as I look him up and down.

"That thing...that attacked me" I whisper, holding his eyes firm to watch his reaction. "Dean called it a blood sucker?"

"The technical term is vampire" he says. I cringe at the name.

Vampire?

I thought as much but hearing it out loud sounded crazy and impossible still.

"I'm sorry" there are those sad eyes again, "about your parents"

"How'd you know?" I bite back my lip, thinking to stop myself from crying again. But still, nothing comes.

"I just guessed" he replies.

"Here" Dean comes back with the water and towels and I move out of his way as he starts cleaning the wound.

"Will...will he be okay?" I ask him.

"Maybe" he replies, "He lost a lot of blood"

The dog is surprisingly still awake, and oddly enough he's calm even as Sam starts to stitch him up. The dog's stunningly light blue eyes are on me, and stay on me as Sam stitches his neck and the glass punctures that were deep, but there weren't many. I hold the dog's gaze. There's something so strange about it but maybe the idea of a vampire having attacked me is clouding my mind and giving me strange thoughts. The dog's eyes...there's almost something human about them, like the way he's looking at me is the same sympathetic look Sammy had given me.

But that's impossible.

It's just a dog.

"How'd you know?" I ask Dean and Sammy without taking my eyes from the dog's.

"We tracked the vampire here" he replies.

"How?" I ask. "How do you...track a vampire?"

"When we were at the gas station" Dean says, "I wasn't the only one who had my eyes on you"

"He...he was there?"

"Yeah" he nods as he's finishing off the last of the stitches. "He somehow by-passed you, taking a back road or something. We followed him straight to your house"

"I took the long way home" I answered.

"He must have already been watching you for a while" Sammy says.

"Who...who are you?" I look between the two of them. Dean glances up at Sammy, they both give each other these...skeptical looks then Dean turns to me as he wipes the blood off his hand on one of the extra towels that's still clean.

"I'm Dean Winchester" he says, holding out his right hand to me, "and this is my brother Sam"

"We're hunters"

"Hunters?" I stare with a confusing glare between them.

"We hunt...things"

"What does that even mean things?"

I'm angry now. I don't understand any of this. My mind a flurry of grief, of frustration. I just want to scream.

"Supernatural things" Dean answers. "Ghosts, creatures such as vampires. There's a long list of things that go bump in the night"

"That's crazy" I scoff.

"Then how do you explain the thing that attacked you?" he raised his eye brows at me. "You know, the thing with fangs?"

I can't explain it.

I sit down in one of the dining room chairs, right in front of the dog's head so I can stroke my fingers back through his fur. His eyes close as I stroke his ears. I can hear him sigh as I lean in to study his thin face and his breath brushes my cheek. As I pet him I can feel that want to scream suppress. The want to cry out for the parents who did nothing but judge and tell me what I disappointment I was to them. But I was surprisingly calm as my hand stroked through his slightly long and thick matted fur. He was dirty, and not just from the blood that caked his fur into clumps. He seemed to shaggy, too thin to be anyone's pet. He must have been a stray and wondering the streets when all this happened. Dogs and their sixth sense crap he must have heard me scream or something. It's the only explanation I can come up with as to why he was so quick to jump through the window and save me. He had sensed danger and went into protective mode, I knew dogs could get like that. My middle school friend Katie had a German Shepard growing up. One night someone had broken into their house when she was home alone. Buddy attacked the intruder when he tried to hurt Katie and according to a shocked neighbor Buddy chased the burglar all the way down the street. They finally caught him when he showed up at a hospital that same night with wounds matching that of a dog attack and Katie was able to ID him.

"Listen believe us or not-"

"I believe you" I say. I don't know if I actually do or not but I don't feel like arguing against it. I'm too tired.

"Stay here" Dean says, "We'll go take care of it"

"Of what?" I ask. When his eyes dart up towards the ceiling I realize he means my parents bodies.

"Oh...okay" I nod softly, not sure how to feel about a stranger dealing with my parents dead bodies. But then again, I prefer it.

I don't want to see. And if I tried to help I don't think I could make it through without collapsing to the floor. Not with all that blood.

"Sam," Dean says, "take care of the Vamp"

They both walk away. I can hear Dean's boots up stairs and thuds against the floor. Like he's dragging something, or dropping it maybe. I try not to listen as I focus on the dog.

"You saved me" I whisper. "Thank you"

His eyes flitter open to look at me. The eyes, that sympathetic look again but then I see something else. I'm not sure how to word it. He nudges his wet nose against my arm and I continue to stroke his ear. When I stare into his eyes I find that I can't look away. It's strange, like being stuck in a trance. My fingers slide over his soft ears. It feels like there's electricity coursing through me as I pet him. I feel strange, like...like he's not just a dog.

I sit and stare at him, hoping he really doesn't belong to anyone so I don't have to give him up.

"So, what do they call you?" I whisper even though I know he can't answer. "Butch?"

He huffs, almost like he's actually answering me.

"Okay, not Butch then" I sigh. "Ripper?"

He huffs again.

"Can I call you...Hank?"

He groans, almost in displeasure at the name and I sigh heavily again. "Well, I can't just call you dog"

His fluffy tail wags.

"You want me to call you dog?" I laugh and he wags his tail and nudges my arm again with his nose.

"Okay fine" I scratch his ear to which his tail thumps harder against the table. Despite his injuries, he seems to be taking the pain well.

"Hey"

I look up and Dean's standing near the door way between the dinning room and living room. He nods at me to come over so I give the dog one last scratch.

"I'll be right back" I whisper when he whimpers, almost like he doesn't want me to leave.

I walk over to Dean and he sort of shifts nervously. "So um, how do you want us to...take care of them?" he asks.

"How do you usually take care of dead bodies?" I ask it so casually but i'm not so sure I want to know the answer.

"We burn em'" he replies.

"What did you do with the vampire?" I ask.

"Out back for now"

"I think I have an idea" I say. "I don't think I can explain what happened without looking like I killed them"

"Okay?" he stares at me oddly. And I realize it's because I suggested people would think that I was the murder, not because I have an idea of how to take care of dead bodies, one being a vampire.

"We have to make it look like all three of us died" I say. "Bring the bodies into the living room...then burn down the house. Make it look like a gas leak or something"

He stares at me in awe, his mouth gapping open like he can't believe I just suggested what I suggested but then his expression changes and he almost looks intrigued, surprised that I came up with the idea and he didn't.

"If that's what you want"

"I have to get some things first" I say, " you know, pack obviously"

"Of course"

"And Dean I was wondering" I stare at him. He's a stranger. A stranger who hunts monsters and I still don't know if I fully believe that things like ghosts and vampires exist. No matter what i've seen tonight. "I was wondering if I can come with you, for now"

"Why?" he looks even more intrigued but now with a small smile on his face.

"Teach me" I say, "Teach me how to be a hunter"


End file.
